Christmas Endeavors
by Fiery And Proud
Summary: SLASH! A series of unrelated ficlets revolving around Christmas.
1. Curses

"Curses," Ron muttered, pointedly glaring at his sneakers.

Ron Weasley's younger sister, Ginny, who was officially the resident trouble-maker at Hogwarts now that Fred and George were gone, had decided to get into the Christmas spirit. She had hung up enchanted mistletoe all over Hogwarts, much to everyone's amusement, except for Colin Creevey, who had gotten stuck under one with Millicent Bullstrode, a Slytherin who was about as foreboding as her name.

The mistletoe had a locking spell on it, so that any two people who passed under it could immediately be handcuffed together. The only way to break the spell is to kiss the other person. Unfortunately, they had required times, ranging from thirty seconds to ten minutes, but there was no way to tell what they were. And it seemed that the Ginny was seeking revenge on her older brother. Probably had something to do with Ron nearly beating up Ginny's boyfriend.

"Bloody hell," he muttered. He glared at his wrist, where a pink—yes, _pink_—handcuff was dangling innocently. He had been in a hurry. He was late for Quidditch tryouts, and Harry wanted the whole team there, especially him, because Harry depended on Ron's blunt advice for those of less…erm…_talent_.

"Can we just get this over?" Ron's head snapped up and he shook it, deftly.

"I am NOT kissing you! Ginny's mad at me! She probably cursed the damn things to last for thirty minutes whenever they caught me!" Draco Malfoy snickered. "It's not funny! I'd be willing to bet she did something like that!"

"Well, I refuse to walk around attached to you. By a pink handcuff, no less," he added, sneering in distaste at the handcuffs, which, he swore turned pinker just to spite him.

"Well, I'm not exactly happy about the situation, either, Malfoy, because I have Quidditch tryouts I have to go to. Now, come on." Ron yanked hard on his wrist and began dragging him towards the field, followed by a protesting Draco.

"Hey, I don't want to sit through your dumb tryouts!" Draco snapped.

"Well, I don't wanna snog you!" Ron retorted.

"Come _here_," Draco growled. Before Ron knew what was happening, Draco grabbed him, dragged him aside, slammed him up against the wall and pressed his lips against Ron's.

Ron squealed in Draco's mouth, his eyes wide with shock. He pushed Draco away when his mind started working again (which, oddly enough, was about the time that Draco started sucking on his lower lip).

"What the hell do you think you're doing!" he gasped. His ears were red, his robes disheveled, and his lips were rather swollen.

"I believe I just kissed you," Draco replied, simply, glancing down at the handcuffs, which, defiantly, did not disappear.

"Well, it bloody well didn't work!"

"Thank you, Captain Obvious of the No Duh realm," Draco replied, calmly.

"Let's just get Hermione. She can probably do a severing charm on it, or something," Ron muttered, distractedly, running his fingers through his already mussed up hair. Draco smirked and allowed himself to be dragged to the library. "Hermione! I need your help!"

Hermione, who was engrossed in a large, old book that was as thick as Crabbe's head, looked up, immediately on alert by the slightly panicked note in Ron's voice. What she saw shocked her, but when a thought occurred to her, she broke down into mindless giggles.

"You two got caught under the mistletoe, didn't you?" she laughed. Ron nodded, infuriated that she was laughing, brandishing his wrist, while painfully yanking up Draco's. Hermione laughed even harder when she saw that it was pink.

"Yes we bloody well did! And I need you to—STOP LAUGHING!" he roared, but Hermione had collapsed into giggles so that she was halfway out of her chair. Draco found her giggling immensely amusing, and rather contagious, so that he himself was laughing as well.

"What are _you_ laughing at?" Ron snarled. Draco smiled, innocently.

"Definitely not you, that's for sure." Ron glared at him, before turning to Hermione, who had fully recovered, but her face was still a little red.

"Will you just slice this thing in half?" She nodded and waved her wand and muttered something. All three of them stared at the handcuffs, expectantly. But nothing happened. "Damn," Ron muttered, glaring at the handcuffs. He turned back to Hermione, but before he could open his mouth, there was a flash, and he felt himself being dragged to the left.

Glancing down, he realized that not only had the severing charm failed, but it had caused the handcuffs to move up their arms, and the chain between them shortened considerably. He was now pressed shoulder-to-shoulder against Draco, and Draco's hand was brushing uncomfortably against his thigh.

"Great. I swear, when I get my hands on Ginny, she'll wish she'd never been born…" Ron muttered, darkly.

"Empty threat, Ronnikins," said a familiar voice, stepping into the library. Ginny stared at Ron, then at Draco, then at the pink handcuff attached to their arms, and burst out laughing.

"It's not funny! Undo this spell or I'll knock your head in!" Ron roared, leaping at his sister. Draco was yanked off his feet and he fell into Ron, who had tackled Ginny, so that the three of them were in a heap on the library floor. Ron was just about to strangle Ginny when Madame Pince came over and yelled at them to get out.

Grumbling and glaring at each other, the three of them stumbled out of the library, Draco's arm painfully sore and probably red as well, followed by Hermione, who, although she disapproved of fighting, was forcing back giggles once more.

"Ginny, get this thing off of me _right now_," Ron breathed, dangerously. Ginny smiled, blandly.

"Well, Ronnikins, the best part about this is that you have to snog Malfoy. That's the only way to break the spell; however, you each get to keep half of the handcuffs as a keepsake of a…_fond_ memory." Ron lunged again, but Draco was quicker. He used his free arm to grab Ron around the waist and hold him still.

"Don't attack, Weasley. It hurts us both much more than it hurts her," Draco said, coolly. Ginny nodded, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Listen to the voice of reason, even if it is Malfoy," Ginny agreed.

"Shut up, Ginny," he snapped.

"Anyway, I was just looking for Hermione. I need some help with this charm we learned yesterday…"

Ron stormed away, now beyond pissed off. Ginny had become just as ruthless as Fred and George had been. Apparently, the twins had taught their baby sister everything they knew, and she had learned well.

"This is so not cool," Ron mumbled. He made his way to the Room of Requirement, and immediately thought of a room with a bunch of comfy cushions. Pushing the door open, he flopped down onto a big puffy pillow with an exaggerated sigh.

"How the bloody hell are we going to get out of this mess?" Ron whined, toying with the tassle on the corner of his cushion. Draco shrugged his free shoulder.

"The hell I should know," he replied, inspecting his perfectly manicured nails, "since you refuse to suffer through the only way to get them off." Ron scowled.

"Well, anyone can hardly blame me!"

"I have to admit, you're probably right about Ginny cursing you with the longest time limit. I wouldn't put it past her."

"I told you so," Ron replied, immaturely.

"Even so, we can't stay like this forever. I mean, what about when night comes around?" Ron shifted, uncomfortably.

"I dunno…Hang on! I've just had a thought!" He closed his eyes and thought hard. When he's opened them, the room was simply shelves and shelves of books. Draco raised an eyebrow.

"_This_ was your brilliant idea?" Draco asked, skeptically.

"'Mione always says, 'When in doubt, go to a book.' These are books full of pranks, how to do them, and how to undo them." He pulled one off the shelf, as did Draco, and they sat down on the floor, back-to-back.

"And so it begins," Draco said, dramatically, opening his book.

Four hours and two awkward bathroom trips later, Ron slammed shut the final book. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing." The Room of Requirement had no windows, but the boys knew it had to be late. Both of their eyelids were dropping.

"I'm so t-t-tir-ed…" Draco said around a yawn.

"Me too…" Ron agreed, leaning, slightly, against Draco. "I need…sleep…" As if the Room of Requirement was reading his mind (which, technically, it was), a soft, white, feather bed appeared underneath the two boys. Too tired to care, they fell asleep side-by-side.

Ron woke up, but he didn't open his eyes. He was warm, cozy, and comfortable, and he didn't want to face another cold day of Christmas break. So he just lay there, his eyes shut, stifling a yawn.

Something shifted against him, however, startling him out of his surreal moment between sleep and awakening. Opening his eyes, he found that he was not in his four-poster bed up in the Gryffindor boys' dormitory. Instead he was in a strange room on a soft feather bed.

Glancing down, he gave a start, and pain shot through his upper arm. Lying next to him, snuggled up in his side, arms around Ron's waist and platinum blonde head on his chest, was Draco Malfoy. He snuggled closer (if that was possible), burying his face in Ron's tee shirt. Ron nearly yelped when Draco's fingers wormed their way under his shirt and tickled his skin.

Suddenly, the memories of yesterday flooded into his mind, and Ron heaved a sigh of relief. For a minute he thought he had slept with Draco, and just didn't remember. Glancing at the sleeping boy, Ron considered him for a moment. Sighing, he gently turned Draco's face upward, and leaned down at the same time, before pressing his lips against the other boy's.

Oddly enough, Ron found that he wasn't incredibly disgusted at the notion of kissing Draco. He had known he was gay, but he hadn't expected he'd ever be kissing Draco Malfoy.

But here he was, sucking on Draco's lower lip, and wondering if this could be considered rape, before sliding his tongue into Draco's mouth. Ignoring that little part of his mind, he moved his lips against Draco's, grinning, madly, at the same time. He heard a soft _click_, and the handcuffs fell from their arms, and Ron pulled away. When he did, he nearly had a heart attack.

Draco was smiling up at him, wide awake, his lips rather red, and his silver eyes sparkling. "How long have you been awake?" Ron demanded, his ears turning red. Draco's smile widened, and he leaned forward and kissed Ron again.

This kiss was obviously a lot more passionate, considering Draco was now able to react. He nipped Ron's lip, and rolled his tongue over it. Ron allowed him entrance, and forced down something between a moan and a giggle as Draco tickled the roof of his mouth.

"Since before you were," Draco replied. He sat up and picked up the handcuffs which, just as Ginny had said they would, snapped in two. Draco grinned and tucked one into his pocket.

Crawling out of bed, the two got cleaned up and left the Room of Requirement, their fingers intertwined. On the way to breakfast, they ran into Harry and Ginny.

"Harry, I'm really, really sorry I missed tryouts! I was on my way, but I got caught under the mistletoe with Draco, so you can imagine—"

"Ron, what are you talking about?" Harry interrupted.

"Tryouts," Ron said, irritably. Harry frowned.

"Ron, I told you, tryouts got postponed till next week." Ron gaped at Harry, and Ginny and Draco both started giggling, madly.

"Curses."


	2. Pranks

"Congratulations, Hermione!" Harry exclaimed, bursting into the room. A very pregnant Hermione spun around, a broad smile on her face.

"HARRY!" she squealed, clapping her hands together. Harry swept her into a hug.

"Where's Charlie?" Harry laughed.

"How's it going, Harry?" Charlie Weasley, muscular and stocky, stepped out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dishrag. He held out one callused hand to shake Harry's.

"I'm great! Congratulations!" He grinned, but before he could say anything, the door flew open.

"Brilliant, Charlie! You should get a medal! First person to get Hermione in bed: Harry?"

Everyone spun around. Ron Weasley, Charlie's youngest brother, and Hermione's best friend, was standing in the kitchen doorway. Unfortunately, Ron and Harry were in the middle of a massive argument, so long-standing that no one was quite sure what it was over (though Fred swore it had something to do with socks).

"Oh, hello, Ronald," Harry said, coldly.

"Harry," he said with a curt nod. Then he turned to Hermione. "Thanks for inviting me, Hermione," he said with a genuine smile. Hermione smiled back, looking nervously between the former best friends.

"Christmas is for family! You're welcome any time! Your parents should be here soon…"

"MERRY CHRISTMAS!"

They turned to see Fred and George bursting into the living room, both dressed as Santa Claus, and carrying a large red sack between them full of what everyone could only hope were presents.

"Fred…George…" Hermione said, suspiciously eyeing the bag. They grinned, innocently.

"Don't worry, 'Mione, dearest. They're just presents." Hermione sighed in relief.

"So, when are Fred and George the Seconds due?" Fred asked, cheerfully. Hermione and Charlie exchanged knowing glances.

"Well, actually…the twins are…girls." Their smiles did not falter at this news.

"Fredrica and Georgina! What do you think, George?"

"Hmmm…I like it, Fred. Come, Robin—To the Batcave!" George shouted, and they headed for the backyard. Lord knows what they were doing there. Charlie, Ron, and Harry all turned to stare at Hermione. She smiled, guiltily.

"I gave them some of my brother's muggle comics, and they seem to enjoy them."

"HERMIONE!" another two voices squealed. Hermione spun, and there was Mrs. Weasley and Ginny bursting into the kitchen. "CONGRATULATIONS!"

The three girls were soon chattering excitedly about everything girly, while the guys helped themselves to food and drink.

About a half hour later, Fred and George pulled the new mother aside, whispering to her. "Hermione, we have a plan, but we need your help. The fate of the Weasley/Potter world rests on your shoulder," George whispered, dramatically.

"What's going on?" Hermione said with an eye roll.

"Well…"

"Come one, let's open presents, people!" Mrs. Weasley said, when night had fallen. A thick snow had started an hour ago, and the boys had been enjoying a rowdy snowball fight, which ended when the twins ended up in the pond Hermione had failed to mention, earlier.

Mrs. Weasley had dried the twins' clothes with her wand, but the twins were still wrapped up in blankets.. Hermione and Charlie were on the couch, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were in the loveseat, and Harry and Ginny were on the floor. Ron was playing Santa this year.

He grabbed a few boxes and tossed them to their rightful owners. The room was cheerful, as everyone opened their gifts. Wrapping paper was strewn all over the place, and no one was paying attention to notice Fred magic a bunch of mistletoe over the table laden with drinks.

Hermione stood up to get a drink, and Harry assisted her, because she refused to let someone bring her drinks. They were chatting by the table when Ron came out of the kitchen.

"Hermione, where's your—" He cut off, noticing Harry. There was an awkward pause, and George spoke up.

"Ron! Harry! Kiss the new mummy, will you!" George called, pointing over their heads, where the mistletoe hung. Harry and Ron laughed, appreciatively, having not noticed it before. They didn't lock eyes as the both leaned down at the exact same time to plant a kiss on each of Hermione's cheeks.

But lips came in contact with lips as Hermione stepped backward. Ron's and Harry's eyes flew open in shock, and the stood, frozen, in a light lip-lock. There was complete silence in the room.

"Well…That's quite a cliché," Fred commented, airily, as George snickered, heartily, into his hot chocolate.

Ron jerked away at his words and dashed out the front door, while Harry headed for the back door.

Fred and George sighed and stood up. "I'll take Ron," George said, and he exited through the front door. Fred went into the backyard, where he found Harry staring, shell-shocked, at the pond, the ice over it shattered thanks to the twins.

"Well, that was quite a surprise," Fred said, casually, as if commenting on the weather.

"Yeah," Harry croaked. His cheeks were bright red, and Fred scrutinized him, trying to decide if he was blushing, or if it was just the cold.

"So…Did you like it?" Fred asked, after a pause, never being the one to beat around the bush. Probably why George took Ron. Had Fred confronted him, there might've been an explosion.

Harry said nothing for a few moments, then answered. "I felt like…like fire was burning through me, and yet I was shivering, tingles going down my spine, and I saw fireworks and…" He sighed and propped on arm on Fred's shoulder, burying his face in the crook of his elbow.

"So…You liked it," Fred confirmed. Harry gave a low growl. "Well, Harry my boy, you're just going to have to face Ron, put aside your differences, and go into an all-out songfest." Harry chuckled, softly.

"What happens if he hates me?" Harry asked, quietly. Fred shrugged the shoulder Harry wasn't resting on.

"Beats me. But he won't hate you. Trust me."

Fred left, and Harry sat down in the snow, huddling in his cloak. He was sobbing, tears frozen to his cheeks. He didn't want Ron to hate him. Harry hated the fight they were in, and over something so stupid as _socks,_ for Merlin's sake. And now with this entirely new range of feelings, Harry felt like a teenage girl on PMS.

Ron came around to the backyard, avoiding going through the house. He spotted Harry huddled in the snow, and noted that his back was heaving, as if he were crying.

Feeling guilty, Ron walked quietly toward him, and wrapped his arms around Harry. Without looking up, Harry leaned into Ron's embrace, sobbing into his shoulder.

"Fred, what am I going to do? If Ron hates me, I think I might just die! It's bad enough we've been in this fight. But now…Fred, I think I…I think I love him," Harry stammered. Ron gasped, slightly, and Harry looked up.

When he realized what he had just done, Harry jerked back, falling back in the snow. "Omigod," he gasped, his face white with shock. "Ron, I didn't—I thought you were—"

"Did you mean that?" Ron asked, roughly, interrupting him. Harry said nothing, then gave a small nod.

"Yes. I suppose I might as well fess up, since I already unwittingly confessed it," Harry said, blushing. "Ron, that k-kiss was the…the best thing I've ever felt. Even more than flying. I swear, even if you hate me for the rest of eternity, I'll still come back to that kiss whenever I have to conjure a Patronus. Please, please don't hate me, because it wasn't my fault, you know, and I—"

"I don't hate you," Ron said, hurriedly. He crawled closer to Harry. "In fact, I…I like you a lot. Actually, I _love _you. You know, that whole thing with the socks…I wasn't mad at you for the socks. I was mad 'cause you didn't love me. I figured it would hurt less if you hated me, rather than if you just liked me as a friend." He laughed, softly. "I was wrong. The pain was ten times worse, and—"

He was interrupted, quite suddenly, but he didn't mind. Harry lunged at him and threw his arms around Ron's neck, pressing his lips against Ron's.

"Thus begins the snogfest," Fred said, as he and the rest of the family watched from the window. "I told you Harry would listen."

The family stepped out onto the backyard, for the sake of further embarrassment, and began applauding when Harry's and Ron's lips finally parted.

They both shot up in surprise, and everyone burst out laughing, because Ron was quite a bit mussed up. His hair was messy, and his sweater was pulled up, exposing his stomach.

"Harry, I didn't _really_ mean an all-out songfest!" Fred shouted, laughing. Harry blushed, then laughed, too.

"Fred, George," Hermione said, "I've got to hand it to you. I didn't think this would work. Good job." Fred and George smiled, identically.

"Never doubt the Weasleys. We always come through."


	3. Tinsel

"You know, I think Lovegood should be shot," Draco growled, contemptuously. Harry snorted.

"You don't even know what that means," he laughed. Draco ignored him. "Besides, it's really Lockhart who came up with this stupid thing," Harry added.

"Yeah, well, he should be shot, too. I can't believe they let him out of Mungo's."

Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter had good reason to be irritated at the former Professor Lockhart. Gilderoy Lockhart had been released from St. Mungo's, and was spending time making hair-care products and holiday lovey-dovey items available to the general public. This particular one was a rather nasty Christmas tree, which liked to wrap tinsel around two unsuspecting victims, namely Draco and Harry. The two boys were tied together, their faces merely inches apart. Better yet, the Christmas tree had lassoed them into a corner, so no one would see them and come to their rescue. Luna Lovegood was very fond of Lockhart, and she had set up the Christmas trees everywhere.

"How on earth are we supposed to get out of this thing, anyway," Draco demanded. Harry would have shrugged, but he couldn't. His arms were beginning to ache, as well.

"Search me," he said automatically.

"I can't, actually, because I'm TIED UP!" Draco snapped. Obviously, he had a low tolerance for Christmas pranks.

"Well, just shut up and start thinking," Harry shot back. Draco sighed huffily, and both boys fell into silence.

An hour later, they were still in silence. "I'm tired," Draco announced. Harry rolled his eyes.

"And what do you expect me to do about it?" Draco glared at him.

"You're the almighty Harry Potter. You figure it out. And hurry it up, too," Draco added. Harry snorted.

"What, need your beauty rest?" he taunted. Draco didn't reply. Harry's grin widened. "You do, don't you?"

"I do not."

"Yes, you do! You need your beauty rest! It helps the complexion," Harry teased in a mock-drawl. Draco bared his teeth.

"Shut up, Potter! It _does_ help the complexion!" he snapped, matter-of-factly. Harry snickered. "It's not funny." He began to laugh, uncontrollably. "Shut up, Potter!" Draco roared. Harry continued to laugh. "Potter, if you don't shut up, I swear I'll-"

"You'll what?" Harry challenged. "Smack me upside the head with your purse?"

"Shut up, Potter! I do not have a purse" Draco shrieked. Harry smiled. He was winning.

"You might as well. You look like a girl. You act like a girl. You dress like a girl..."

"As opposed to the hobo attire you wear," Draco spat.

"Better hobo than homo!" Harry shot back. Draco fell silent, looking shocked. Harry stared back at him. It took a five minute moment of silence before reality set in. "Oh my gosh. Are you..?"

"So what if I am?" Draco growled, refusing to meet Harry's eye, and instead staring at the ceiling. Harry's stomach dropped. Even if it was Draco, he still felt bad.

"Malfoy, I'm sorry-"

"Don't even, Potter," Draco interrupted. Harry shut his mouth, guiltily. "It's none of your damn business, anyway."

"Malfoy..." Harry began, weakly. Draco lowered his gaze. His expression was even, but his silver eyes were burning with rage. "Malfoy, I'm sorry. If I had known, I would've never..."

"Just. Stop. I don't need your pity. I don't even _understand_ your pity." Harry's eyebrows raised as he watched Draco go into a rant. "I mean, really, this is probably_ gold _for you. Draco Malfoy, your worst enemy, is flaming gay. Actually, I'm surprised it took you this long to figure out! I mean, most of my clothes are of the more fitted variety. You could use it as blackmail, big time. If the Slytherins ever found out, they'd probably pound me. I'm good at flying, but not so hot in the self-defense-"

"Malfoy, shut up." Draco's mouth snapped shut, and his eyes returned to Harry's, confused. Harry sighed. "I'm not going to use it as blackmail," he said, quietly. Draco raised an eyebrow.

"What? Why not?" he demanded, thoroughly perplexed. Harry sighed, again.

"Because...Because..." Harry growled, then leaned up, pressing his lips against Draco's in a fierce, almost angry kiss. Instantly, the tinsel bonds dropped, and the two boys broke apart. Draco was shocked, and Harry was cursing himself.

"What was that?" Draco demanded. Harry rolled his eyes.

"What do you think it was?" he replied, irritably. Draco stared at him.

"Why?"

"Because. I've liked you since last year. Besides, that was the only way to get rid of the tinsel," he added, motioning to the Christmas tree, which twinkled, innocently. Draco stared from the tree, to the tinsel, to Harry.

"You...do...?" Harry nodded. Draco took a deep breath, then shoved Harry up against the wall. Harry flinched. Perhaps Draco wasn't strong compared to Slytherins, but compared to Harry, he certainly was. "Potter..." Draco growled. Harry opened his eyes and nearly had a heart attack.

Draco was smiling.

Before Harry could manage to say something, Draco leaned down and kissed him. Harry opened his mouth in shock, but it is quite hard to make any kind of noise when you've got _two_ tongues in your mouth.

"So...I guess Luna doesn't deserve to be shot, after all?" Harry said with a smile when Draco pulled away. Draco grinned.

"Maybe not. But Lockhart does. He's just annoying."


End file.
